as our mouths were agape from the raw beauty of the mountainous landscape, we found ourselves coughing – at points choking – on dust. and upon conversing with locals like the taxista on day two, it was clear that the dry climate is far from breaking news. this 10-year drought has become commonplace for mendozans, each year a bit worse than the last.

sure enough, a 2021 study found that five of the largest rivers in the mendoza basin are under extreme hydrological drought conditions. in addition to the desiccation of key wetland ecosystems, agriculture and livestock have suffered tremendously. wine production has decreased by almost a third, and key reservoirs can no longer promise water to local communities. as an attempted pivot, snowfall from the andes has been increasingly relied on – but what happens when snowfall decreases each year? last winter, the valley received no snow at all. snow-covered vistas are either distant in memory, or far up in the mountains.

activism in mendoza

on the final day of our trip, we had the gift of spending time with members of mendoza’s asamblea popular por el agua. this group of young climate activists have planned and implemented a series of largely- attended protests, dances and other events over the past five years. on this day, we drove two hours south to attend a public fair framed around the distribution and celebration of seeds in the town of san carlos.

they shared their work with us, which has proven incredibly effective in creating change and mobilizing substantial numbers of people in the fight for rights to clean water for everyone. their framework of diverse, creative, unrelenting activism allows them to address specific communities with each campaign, ensuring that their message truly reaches everyone.

their campaign also addressed questions of environmental justice in the face of climate change, since the impacts of drought, water pollution, and privatization will be distributed unequally, such that certain communities bare the largest burden of these actions. by utilizing infrastructures that already exist, such as grassroots organizations, farmer coalitions, news channels, famous singers like the puerto rican rap group calle 13, and more, they have brought their message to large audiences.

la feria de semillas adopted this similar technique, bringing local farmers, vendors, specialists, the work of local students, and regional nonprofits into the same space in order to amplify their message and strengthen connections within this network of various actors. having only witnessed four days of mendoza, i found myself blown away. first, at the seriousness of the situation. as environmental crises often are, this drought is at the nexus point of concurrent crises: public health, economic and ecological. second, i was blown away at the wisdom and clarity of the activism already in place. it was targeted, inspiring, and oozing with the joy of community. in my past activism in the u.s., i had never encountered a group that could so gracefully balance hope and reason.

upon boarding the return flight to buenos aires, i felt shaken awake. the land had a lot to say, but so did the people. this work is rich with demonstrations of conflict transformation in practice. the seed fair attendees brought their own history and life experience into the space; each had their personal stories of the drought and its impacts. in order to equalize and publicize the knowledge of this predicament, a panel of local experts elaborated on the historical and current situation.

similarly, there was a native plant workshop, open to the public, where attendees could learn about local plants and how to cultivate them. these structures built both freedom and responsibility for every individual at the fair: by gathering sources of local knowledge and sharing them among the community, each individual becomes an agent of change. they too can distribute this knowledge. they are part of the solution.

chinook (king) salmon populations have been in decline over the last decade. these salmon are critical contributors to the subsistence resources for the residents of tyonek. sport fishers, tourists, and locals rely on healthy chinook populations as well. 

there has been a longstanding consensus among aquatic scientists that ocean conditions are the primary driver for lower salmon returns. but in july of 2020, a study led by uaa and uaf offered groundbreaking evidence that freshwater habitat health may play a large role too. according to uaa aquatic ecologist leslie jones, this research sought to determine “if there were any indications that conditions in freshwater habitats during spawning or rearing may have impacted productivity, to see whether or not streamflow or stream temperature might have contributed to chinook declines.” among its many findings, the study showed that hotter summers lead to decreased chinook populations in lowland rivers. most notably, chinook in the warmest streams suffered substantially when stream temperatures rose above 64 degrees fahrenheit for at least a week or longer.

the deshka river is one such ecosystem. located in the mat-su basin in south central alaska, it is an important freshwater habitat for migrating and spawning chinook. last summer 18,583 were recorded swimming up this river. but chinook populations will be gravely impacted in water above 20ºc, and in recent years, the deshka river has recorded temperatures as high as 27°c  (81.1°f). weekly water temperatures are projected to exceed 26.0°c by 2060 (mauger et. al). this warming presents a potential thermal bottleneck for migrating fish. since water temperature plays a critical role in the salmon lifecycle, the reliable presence of cold pockets within the deshka river are necessary for the persistence of salmonids and other fish species in the years ahead.

during the summer of 2021, i interned with cook inletkeeper, an environmental nonprofit in homer alaska, to help protect these vulnerable ecosystems. i worked with sue mauger, the organization’s executive and science director, to identify and create a conservation plan for locations with persistently cold water (called cold water refugia) that salmon will rely on as water temperatures increase. these refugia may include deep pools throughout the river, as well as places with overhanging vegetation and undercut banks. stream reaches with distinct groundwater interactions (classified as springs and seeps) also result in measurably cooler water.

about halfway through my internship, sue and i were on a five-day canoe trip down the deshka river to map and identify the locations of these cold water refugia. while the magnificence of the pristine natural landscape was old news for sue, from the moment we arrived i couldn’t stop marveling at the massive ferns, large cliffs, and 22-hour days. however, there was something off about the beautiful weather– the warmth was unseasonable and reminded me of the urgent purpose of our trip. 

partway through the second day, i looked down, and below my paddle i saw a white, floating, piece of debris. after a moment, i made out a body behind it. it was a massive chinook salmon, old and disintegrating. its face was completely rotted and its eyes were gone. flecks of flesh were hanging off its body. 

slowly but surely, it was swimming upstream. while initially haunting, i found myself quickly moved to tears. this fish, despite all odds, was still swimming upstream. it had lived through three years in the ocean and dodged countless obstacles to finally be back here in its natal stream, swimming against the current so it could spawn. it couldn’t even see! and yet it was connected to something bigger, a larger cycle of existence. the roe that it spawns may even eat its decomposing flesh on their way downstream. i knew at that moment that i needed to commit my life to this work. seeing that salmon brought me close to the countless generations of commitment to the life cycle. it brought me close to the idea of eternity. conservation is to invest in this eternal life cycle by protecting healthy landscapes for future generations.

while the 2020 study’s findings may carry weighty consequences given the trajectory of water temperatures in the deshka, it also provides hope. there are now further ways to protect the chinook. restoring habitats along the river would not only benefit the salmon, but also countless other species that are critical to the freshwater ecosystem. rebecca shaftel, aquatic ecologist with the accs at uaa, explained that “there are actions we can take on the landscape to provide resiliency for streams against climate change.” these may include “maintaining natural vegetation, [improving] shade along stream banks, and protecting wetlands, which provide critical streamflow in the summer and buffer streams from flooding in the fall.”

when fighting to protect this alaskan land, conservationist mo udall wrote: “this time, given one great final chance, let us strive to do it right. not in our generation, nor ever again, will we have a land and wildlife opportunity approaching the scope and importance of [alaska].” this statement has never been truer. salmon is life for so many alaskans. for the chinook to keep returning, we must act now.

works cited:

acia, 2004. impacts of a warming arctic: arctic climate impact assessment. acia overview report. cambridge university press.

jones, la, schoen, er, shaftel, r, et al. watershed-scale climate influences productivity of chinook salmon populations across southcentral alaska. glob change biol. 2020; 26: 4919– 4936.

mauger, s, shaftel, r, leppi, jc, and rinella, dj. summer temperature regimes in southcentral alaska streams: watershed drivers of variation and potential implications for pacific salmon. canadian journal of fisheries and aquatic sciences. 74(5): 702-715.